It's been a lazy-ish weekend so far, with me feeling ill yesterday and therefore the whole day just went away without much. Nevertheless, I keep reminding myself that this Limbo might be the only time my whole life when I can be so relaxed so I'll just take a deep breath and cross my fingers until they spasm. And, loads of things to be thankful for-- what better time when our American friends have just celebrated their Thanksgiving and probably are even more thankful after delightful Black Friday hauls. . . .

fuchsia sari on a waxwork flowerchild

I was doing up my proofreading/writing/CV doctor portfolio site*, a project I've procrastinated on since forever when I realised, 'Oh, there have hardly been any outfit shots on the blog!' And wait a minute, even though I haven't been taking loads since I moved to Brighton (no idea why), there are still so many sitting happily in my expanded hard disk drive. So have I vowed to start posting outfit shots more regularly-- not forgetting those others I have been meaning to write up on-- and possibly even summery shots as a visual respite from the blazing cold. On Monday, D texted me after his tai chi class that there was live music around. Thinking, 'Yay! Live music!' and 'It's going to be three-hours tops', I absentmindedly grabbed this vintage wear-in-many-different-ways silk sari skirt, purchased a few years back for only. . 20p, and tied it high-waisted below a vintage black midriff top** that I've owned since twelve, and which I found the other day to layer beneath a jumper***. A little tired of wearing boots all the time**** I slipped my feet into a pair of velvet Charles & Keith shoes with five-inch silver heels, cushioned by a comfortable pair of black Primark socks. And time to adorn myself! Lately I pulled out my entire flower collection and put some downstairs with my trinket collection and up went a red fabric rose, a pretty pair of fuchsia-studded earrings******, the fingerless lace gloves, a fuchsia cocktail ring from Diva, and stuffed some possessions into a Christian Dior handbag*******. Dressed in ten minutes. And because it was supposed to be three hours tops since the bars shut at about 12am in Hove, I simply painted on lipstick and eyeliner, thinking, 'Who cares about makeup'. Same thing that I told the fluffy nosey-parker cat who tears into your house and sleeps on your couch and looks like a Chocolate Robber-- "Hey, I'll be back soon! Come visit then!" at about 830pm. I hadn't eaten all day (or drank much water) and was actually envisioning a nice, warm dinner. Except that, it was 10am and about 30 shots of dark rum between us later that we arrived back. Well, at least we had a greasy, overpriced breakfast before then.

warming drinks to spice you up this winter

Original image of cup of latté from here
It's winter, and who doesn't appreciate a Warm Me Up drink. As a fan of deep exotic spices whether in the scents I wear, the curries I cook or the potions I concoct for a devilishly delightful drink, spices are purrfect for warming one up, especially in the chilly cold. Who needs the heater for that extra boost of heat ;)

thai food at the wick inn

A week ago, I came back home to find a note from D that he had gone for Tai Chi. Interesting, I thought. I realised that my fingerless lace gloves had arrived in the post, in my attempt to replace all the four pairs of gloves that mysteriously 'disappeared' from my carefully-packed possessions* in my dorm room. So I decided to meet him for drinks and dinner, changed my outfit to one more befitting of the gloves** and put on my Icarus Grew Oriental Wings top, slicked on some red lipstick, dramatised the black liquid eyeliner and the appropriate accouterments-- a ring with a burst of pearls and another sheer red fabric rose one, both from Diva, and bronze chandelier earrings from Forever 21. I also threw on my gold Bebe brocade coat and a Dior handbag with pretty embroidery, feeling in my element. As I walked there, I kept texting him to order wedges-- my pub staple-- fantasising about warm hearty and slightly spicy potato chunks I would anoint with vinegar and pepper, but he kept telling me to be patient. For what? I wondered. And then as I walked into the charming old pub The Wick Inn, with a gleeful smile did he hand over the Thai Menu to me. And all cravings of wedges shimmered out of the many windows in the establishment. .

*Because you don't screw with the memory of an elephant, much less a photographic one. Alas, how is one to raise a case that 'four pairs of gloves and two letters were selectively stolen from my room?'
** You know how you might have no sense of delayed gratification and must wear new stuff now?

copycat, kiss the rat

 Image source: Chaglr

This week's Friend Friday hinges on the topic of copying. 

1. What are the 'unwritten rules' about copying content that we bloggers should all abide by?
2. They say imitation is the highest form of flattery. But when is a post imitation and when is it copying?
3. Taking another blogger's idea (perhaps for an outfit, or DIY tutorial) is pretty common in the blogging world. Do you think it is necessary to credit the original source?
4. How have you improved your blog by comparing it to other blogs? Have you made changes due to something you have seen others doing?
5. Have you ever had one of your posts copied by another blogger or publication? How did you handle the situation?

I thought I'd answer them somehow in a long-ish post. . .

prawn and mussel medley: international edition

D's been busy so I've been gladly taking over chef duties. Life during your 'gap year' is limbo when you are researching/applying for your next course and have no idea about the outcome, you're waiting for your work visa in the meantime and . . everything is a big fat question mark. Which means I try my best to stay in lest I go out and spend money, as distractions abound with gorgeous shoes and clothes everywhere-- you will always want new clothes and re-define 'want' as 'need'. So I end up thanking heavens that I have an aesthetically-pleasing lair, living off my savings. . and basically I've never felt so financially-challenged before my whole life. Sometimes I wake up and think, "Hey, when in my whole life have I ever been so free before?" I worked insanely hard during my undergraduate years (otherwise I'll probably be starving now and selling my shoes) and it feels odd to neither have class nor work. There are moments when I bemusedly think, "Oh, is this how a Trust Fund Kid or Kept Woman feels? Wake up, do no work, no nothing". It feels odd. Which also gives me time to cook. And therefore, the concoction of two recipes based on a prawn and mussel medley-- one Italian, and one Indonesian.

*On a side note, the header photo is entirely irrelevant but just another of D's breakfasts the first day I woke up in Brighton; I realise I have no photos of me cooking over in this gorgeous kitchen but rather only those of me cooking in my not-very-pretty Cambridge dorm kitchen.

how to steal away for a devilishly pleasurable bath

I spend loads of time in the bathroom. It's my Sanctuary to unwind, a place where I like to take my time rather than to rush. I take pride in it and constantly clean it, whilst finding the best ways of enjoying my experience there. Baths are divine and there is nothing better than a luxurious long soak-- what Lulu calls as my Holy Baths. I also dream of claw-foot tubs and, high on my list of Dream Tubs is this copper one which I found floating about the internet eons ago-- rustic, charming and full of character, that I envision myself spending lazy weekend afternoons in whilst the world whizzes by. But these remain a phantasy until I own my very own abode and can fit in the furnishings of my dreams. In the meanwhile, we all know that looking good comes from feeling good. . So how about a guide to a Devilishly Pleasurable Bath Time?

the vintage pinup girl in the haunted manor

You might remember that I mentioned two costume changes this Halloween-- The Best Friend and I agreed that the more, the merrier. Plus she had bought too many props the evening before she came, meaning we should use them all. After we finished our Beach of the Dead Zombie Walk, I brought her for a tiny tour around Brighton before heading back to the flat where D was whipping up a delicious South Indian curry from scratch. Denise and I excitedly ran upstairs (we do that all the time whenever we go to each other's homes) and shortlisted outfits for the night, pulling out all our props onto the bed. In the end, she settled on my floral jumpsuit to match her pink wig. And I decided, what better excuse than to do my favourite vintage pinup look? 

a peek through the cloud of secrets. .

 Como Agua Para Chocolate  by Devilishly Pleasurable

The lovely Sarah over at the literally and visually-delightful Cloud of Secrets tagged  me for a round of "I love your blog" Q&A. I enjoyed reading her answers and drooling at her amazing photography, and am delighted that I am able to sit down now and work on my own post. . .

devilishly pleasurable foodies: sweetcorn and beef soup recipe

D makes the most spectacular meals ever, so much so that I always suspect he is a chef masquerading as a designer/architect. Coming from Singapore and growing up loitering around my grandmother's kitchen as she whipped up her incredible dishes, food is in my blood. The appreciation of and creation of food courses through my veins, so I was absolutely delighted to discover that D really can cook, so much so that I often tell him we should stay in and cook because his food tastes better than alot of what you get outside. Half my camera is loaded with photographs of the meals he has made, and ever so often do we drool over them together before he goes, "Hey I have cooked you so many meals!", ooh and ahh over the details of each one, and then he starts to threaten to start a food blog except he never has time to. In particular, his breakfasts are divine-- and he has never repeated a single breakfast before. For instance, this meal was whipped up when the stoves in my building in Cambridge were spoilt, and he cooked the eggs ingeniously with hot water. They are in a league of their own, and so sacred that I dress up* for them. So as I have always been threatening to put up food-- my other great love in life (well let's face it, love should be multiplied and hence you can love a lot of things)-- on Devilishly Pleasurable, herein do food photographs and recipes kick off. Let's hope they'll be a regular feature with all the other posts screaming out to be written, designed and posted. . .

winter reds

With the coming of winter staying warm is absolutely essential. Time to break out those gorgeous heavy faux fur coats that break and bend your hangers mercilessly. Some mornings when you get up you feel glamourous and amazing (great way to start the morning) so you curl your hair slowly, and get dressed properly before leaving the house, loving the addition of red to your look. Quick fuzzy bursts of reds, blues and browns courtesy of Photobooth. Red pussybow top belonging to my mother and kidnapped by me to the UK tucked into a Valleygirl denim high-waisted mini, flanked by a red ostrich leather handbag that D insists looks like a strawberry, whilst height is elevated gorgeously by a brown F&F lace-up boots and kept chic yet warm with a huge fuzzy vintage faux fur coat. And of course, gorgeous River Island navy blue socks peeking out, accesorised with red lips, thick gold Forever 21 hoops, and red fabric rose ring from Diva. The living room (and actually the whole lair) has just been upgraded. . which is exciting. Even though I know it will be further upgraded as we speak. Photos of that soon too! Have a glorious week ahead x

friend friday and cravings

Oriental Blushes by Devilishly Pleasurable
As you might notice, Devilishly Pleasurable now has a new header (which I'm quite proud of lol) and slightly different site layout. Also, we exceeded 6000 views yesterday-- so thank you! :)

This week's Friend Friday questions are to do with beauty and grooming-- topics close to my heart, focusing on doing away with shampoo, soap and deodorant. Whilst some may see it as treating your body kindly-- which I agree with-- I look at it from the viewpoint of jumping onto the 'good for health bandwagon' and question why we undertake some actions.

of secret societies and graduations

"It was bizarre. . like a Masonic ritual"
". . like a secret society"
". . Harry Potter-esque"

Let's take a break from shoes, away from the series of shoe posts. Last Saturday, I embarked on the 2+hr journey up to Cambridge for my graduation. Why am I telling you the journey time. . you'll understand later. It was an insane time, and so painfully ludicrous I cannot help but laugh.  
Characters of the day
Alright, we STILL are going to look at shoes. Can't help it. This was the first time D met Denise. . I was quite excited because this would be the first time D met any of my long-time friends, and this is my best friend. He was shaking his head in disbelief at us both dramatised and insane and taking photographs incessantly.
The Girl In The Red Cape; The Girl in the Leopard Print Coat; and The Man Channeling Oscar Wilde.

zombies marching through halloween misguidedly as schoolgurls

I cannot begin to tell you how much I adore the gorgeous Brighton. From the first time I set foot here, I fell in love with it and decided it was where I was going to stay. It's been slightly more than a month since I left Cambridge and slowly built up my lair, and wander about the place exploring the multifarious delights it has to offer whilst I await my work visa. This year, for the fourth year running, Brighton held its annual Beach of the Dead, where zombies were to march about town. The Best Friend was planning to celebrate Halloween in Brighton, so I googled about for things to do, knowing full well that Brighton wouldn't disappoint me. Indeed, I discovered the event, and rather frantically, we began to plan for it. Being a last-minute thing and because I was tied up with a few other stuff, we didn't have much time to fully execute our costumes. Smugly, we decided we'd go as Zombie Schoolgurls-- the easiest look, right? The night before, she was texting me excitedly how many items she'd bought. At 1pm the next day, I left the soup to simmer on the stove and walked to the station to pick her up. . .
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